Wyatt_Junker
08-18-2007, 10:37 AM
You ever have one of those days where you didn't have any food left at home to bring to work for lunch? So, you wander into your office and open up the mini-fridge. What is in there you ask? A variety of non-relational items. Things you wouldn't normally place on the same plate, adjacent to each other, but now, out of desperation... why not? You're hungry. You'll eat anything.
Its a lonely place to be. Everyone else is eating normal food. Jim has two Hot Pockets cooling on his desk after nuking them into oblivion. Les from accounting has a giant burrito halfway into his maw. All you have is creativity, will and desire.
You look into the fridge. Its almost barren, but you see something in the back, a silouette of an odd shape. You go for it. It is an old pack of hot dogs. They look slightly discolored. You grab one and smell it. It smells like a woman's private part. You don't care. You stick it onto your paper plate. It makes a wet 'whap' sound.
You then look for something to go with it. Some carbs. Ahhhhh, there it is. A pudding cup. That will work. You add that to your ensemble. But, when you reach for the utensils, they are all gone. You decide to pull off a McGyver. You use the hot dog as an instrument to extract the pudding from said cup. You feel like a wierd porn extra as you down the chocolate pudding but you are too hungry to care. People stare at you at your desk.
After the cup is all gone, you quickly eat the hot dog. But you still feel the gnawing hunger in the pit of your belly. What other kind of damage can you do?
You see a bag of Skittles. You never eat sweets, but today is the day. You grab it and tear it open with your teeth. The bag rips open. Half of them fall onto the floor. The other half scatter across your desk. Shit. This lunch is ridiculous and silly.
You are a bum, a hobo at this point begging your co-workers for a handout. Anything. There is nothing you can do except pray for kindness. A crumb. One donut from a pack of Hostess. A delicious bagel. There is nothing. You decide to make it on a half tank until dinner. You eat the Skittles. Even the ones that have fallen onto the floor.
Its a lonely place to be. Everyone else is eating normal food. Jim has two Hot Pockets cooling on his desk after nuking them into oblivion. Les from accounting has a giant burrito halfway into his maw. All you have is creativity, will and desire.
You look into the fridge. Its almost barren, but you see something in the back, a silouette of an odd shape. You go for it. It is an old pack of hot dogs. They look slightly discolored. You grab one and smell it. It smells like a woman's private part. You don't care. You stick it onto your paper plate. It makes a wet 'whap' sound.
You then look for something to go with it. Some carbs. Ahhhhh, there it is. A pudding cup. That will work. You add that to your ensemble. But, when you reach for the utensils, they are all gone. You decide to pull off a McGyver. You use the hot dog as an instrument to extract the pudding from said cup. You feel like a wierd porn extra as you down the chocolate pudding but you are too hungry to care. People stare at you at your desk.
After the cup is all gone, you quickly eat the hot dog. But you still feel the gnawing hunger in the pit of your belly. What other kind of damage can you do?
You see a bag of Skittles. You never eat sweets, but today is the day. You grab it and tear it open with your teeth. The bag rips open. Half of them fall onto the floor. The other half scatter across your desk. Shit. This lunch is ridiculous and silly.
You are a bum, a hobo at this point begging your co-workers for a handout. Anything. There is nothing you can do except pray for kindness. A crumb. One donut from a pack of Hostess. A delicious bagel. There is nothing. You decide to make it on a half tank until dinner. You eat the Skittles. Even the ones that have fallen onto the floor.